


of dying of drowning

by sandyk



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Infertility, reference to forced sterilization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 06:27:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12551216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandyk/pseuds/sandyk
Summary: AU post-CACW, Natasha contemplates retiring and changing herself from what the Red Room made her.





	of dying of drowning

**Author's Note:**

> not for profit, not mine. Opening quotes and title from Sleeping with Peter Pan by Stephen Mills. In the summer of 2017, one class A share of Berkshire Hathaway, Warren Buffet's company, was worth over $200,000. I assumed the voting shares for Stark Industries are similarly pricey. So the account Tony offers is at minimum over $2 million. Thanks to A for beta help.

  
Art by [lj user chosenfire](https://chosenfire28.livejournal.com/)

You told me stories of wingless boys  
flying, and I thought of dying,  
of drowning, of my inability  
to get on a plane without shaking.  
Don’t be scared, you whispered  
from the ceiling, boys are meant to fly.  
Yet I stood tip-toed on the bed unable  
to levitate, to let go of gravity.

 

The night before, in Italy, Tony already had his hand pressing on her cunt and then lower and his fingers went higher opening her up down and up and she was pretty sure she was very wet. "Tony," Nat said.

"That's my name," Tony said. His hand was still doing something amazing between her legs and now his fingers were nearly pushing into her but not quite.

"I don't even like you," Nat said.

"So not true," Tony said. He leaned over her, pressing on her breast and kissing her on the lips. She couldn't quite catch her breath, her heart was beating in tune with his fingers pushing in and out of her.

She came and bit his lip. He was hard against her thigh. She said, "Are you going to get on top of me now?"

"Not when you ask like that," Tony said. He was still smug. He half sat up, kneeling between her legs and spreading her open again. He pulled on her hips so her legs were wide around him.

She sat up and delicately gripped his dick. "Go ahead and fuck me."

"Since you asked so nicely," Tony said. Then he was inside her again, thicker and wider than his fingers. He was above average and had above average technique. He was less interested than before in making her come but he was still focused on her. She clenched tight on his dick and was rewarded with a groan.

"No smart remarks?"

"Give me a second," Tony said. His fingers dug into her thigh and her butt. She smiled at him. He winked at her and came right then. He pulled out and she stretched.

She rolled onto her side. The bed was firm and perfect, like every hotel room Tony had. 

Tony said, "More sex?"

She shrugged. "Sure."

She made him wait this time, got him to beg. He wasn't even dignified when she finally let him fuck her. He came so quickly, she laughed at him.

"You are cruel," Tony said. "And I enjoyed that." He stretched. "Have you come yet? Let me help with that."

He did actually make her come and then they laid next to each other. "This is almost relaxing," Tony said.

The night after, they were in a crate, both stripped naked, with little room to move. On a train. 

Natasha said. "This train is going to stop and we're going to end up in a violent confrontation. We don't have clothes or weapons."

"Break off a piece of crate, we both have a weapon. Maybe they'll be vampires and we can just stake them in the heart," Tony said. He ran his hand up and down her arm. She meant to shrug him off but it wasn't so bad.

"There were fifteen of them when we were being put in this crate," Natasha said.

"You counted," Tony said.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't you have a suit you can just summon?"

"Not from this far and not without my watch," Tony said. "Or glasses or in the lining of my pocket."

"I suppose someone is looking for us," Natasha said.

"Of course they are," Tony said. "We're valuable people who matter."

Natasha smiled. "You're thinking you're more valuable than me."

"You could not be farther from the truth," Tony said. "I was thinking about pubic grooming."

"Why were you thinking about that?"

"You're very groomed, I'm less groomed. Does any of it really matter? I guess, as someone who broke up with the love of their life I should be grooming as I pursue other opportunities and pubes. And you're single, too, but do you, it hardly matters with you. Unless you don't consider yourself single. I actually don't consider myself single. It's been months. Clearly this is not a topic I'm good at covering," Tony said. "And you're beautiful."

Natasha didn't answer. She said, "We have to get off this train."

"Okay," Tony said. Tony and Natasha attacked the wooden slats as soon as they realized their crate had nothing on top of it.

Natasha read through the labels on the other crates. She said, "Let's break this one open."

"I found a crowbar, 100% less splinters this time," he said.

As she'd read on the label the crate contained men's underthings. Stark reached for a pair of boxer briefs and undershirt. Natasha grabbed a smaller pair of the same.

"Should I fashion a bra from a jockstrap?" Tony, of course, thought he was helpful.

"Thanks, but just open this one next." Women's underthings meant she could wear underwear without so much room at front, and then layer bike shorts over that. The bras were not great or well made, Natasha layered on two.

"Any one of these say weapons? Shoes? Radios? Iron Man armor?"

"You can't read Cyrillic?"

"True fun fact: I am not a language whiz," Tony said. "What else do we have here?"

Natasha read the labels. "More underwear. More underwear. Oh, shoes. I suspect soft canvas ones, but better than nothing."

They were basically rip offs of Tods but it was better than nothing. There was nothing else of use, just more of the same. Natasha said, "I think we need to get off this train."

"It's not going very fast, right?" Tony sighed, which meant he was going to follow her lead.

They found an easy to open hatch on top. Natasha pulled Tony up once she got out. She kept her eye on him, he was in good enough shape but he wasn't used to working without the suit, or parts of it.

"So where are we?" Tony looked mostly steady squatting on top of the train.

"You think I just know?"

"Don't you?"

"I do, but it's not because of any spy skills, it's because I've been here before," Natasha said. "We're in Albania."

"That sounds bad," Tony said. "I don't have any friends here."

"No one you sold weapons to?"

"No," Tony said, frowning. He slipped for a moment and righted himself on the train. "Just because I knew one shitty arms dealer one time does not mean I ever cavorted with bad guys and I certainly did not sell weapons to known rogue regimes."

"Got it," Natasha said. "When we find a good place, we should jump. This train isn't going anywhere we want to go."

"But it could be better than injuring ourselves in the bright Albanian countryside?" Tony did move closer to the edge, getting ready to jump if she signaled it. She did appreciate that he always trusted her when it came to her job.

"At the other end of this, there is guaranteed to be people with guns. We have nothing," Natasha said.

"Tell me when," Tony said.

She looked over at him and ran through the basics of falling, rolling. He radiated disdain but she knew he was listening.

They were finally going over a more even part of countryside. She said, "Jump" and grabbed his hand. She let go of his hand so she could brace herself correctly. It was still painful and jarring. She felt it in her hip and butt and shin. She pushed herself to standing. Tony was a few feet away and looked like he was fine. "How are you?"

"You're bleeding," Tony said. He stood up slowly.

"So're you," Natasha said. She walked up to him and ripped a strip from the bottom of his shirt. She dabbed at his open cuts; one on his cheek, two on his thigh. She handed it to him and he did the same to her cuts.

"It had to be my shirt," Tony said.

"Your shirt looked cleaner," she said, smiling.

They started walking away from the railroad tracks. Natasha said, "Did you see the recent intelligence about the possible human experimentation happening in Durres and Shijak?"

"I try not to read any intelligence about human experimentation," Tony said. "Do you think we were on the way to either of those cities?"

"Possibly," Natasha said.

"Someone knew something," Tony said. "I know I already covered this."

"When we woke up in the crate, yeah, we don't need to repeat it. Clearly, someone knew our schedule and that part of your or my schedule was ours," Natasha said.

"You're so resentful," Tony said. "No, not resentful, you're embarrassed about the two of us, the melding of our schedules and parts."

"I'm not embarrassed," Natasha said, truthfully. "I'm irritated that I was so lax, we got caught."

"But I wasn't?"

"I always forget how security conscious you are," Natasha said.

"Fine, I'm not, but I've been in the public eye my whole life, I have some situational awareness," Tony said. "Granted, I tend to be lax myself when I'm with you. I just assume you're watching out for both of us."

"I hope you've learned your lesson," Natasha said. Tony was quickly by her side, his arm around her. He kissed her hair.

"Don't feel bad, shnookums," Tony said. "You're my favorite superspy."

"Now I feel completely better," Natasha said. She leaned a little into his arm.

She should have known better than to date him. Her sexual attraction to him had certainly always been present since she first met him, but she was very skilled at ignoring that sort of thing. She'd been attracted to Pepper, too. She never did anything about either feeling.

Pepper and Tony had a long break up. Natasha hadn't picked sides, no one had. But for some stupid reason, Natasha found herself in Tony's morose and drunk company more often than she liked. He was a hundred times more draining to deal with when he was wallowing. At the point where she felt he had moved beyond mourning to a loop of self-pity, she decided to interrupt it by having sex with him. It was much better sex than she thought she would be having with him.

She didn't see him for a month after that. She heard through the grapevine he was sleeping around. Typical, she'd thought. But then he'd flown all the way to Uruguay to talk to her. He was so bad at lying low, he nearly completely blew her operation. He'd made up for it by taking her to a very nice hotel in Ascuncion.

She still wondered how they'd been fucking for months. It really was a relationship. Longer than she'd had in a few years. He was Tony, he was a known quantity in her life. Generally, not the kind of known quantity she wanted around.

But she was wrong. She had been wrong. Tony was a good man, something she'd always known. He was also enjoyable to be around, something she never liked acknowledging.

Luckily they entered an area that was sparsely populated. Natasha signaled Tony to hang back. She found a place that had been deserted for at least a month. The water still worked, though. She and Tony both showered, with Tony making stupid groans of joy. All the clothes Natasha could find were too big for either of them but it was nicer than running around in just underwear. Natasha left Tony in the kitchen already building a radio or something from the parts he found and started casing the rest of the house for anything useful. She found a few decent knives and one rusting shotgun.

Tony helped her sharpen the knives. He went to work on making the shotgun usable. She left him to his table and tried to find food. There was nothing in the pantry besides some flour and it smelled funny. The house had no furniture except for the table and chairs in the kitchen. She sat down across from Tony. "People have looted this place. Taken everything they could use."

"We should stay one more night in here, except I'm starving."

"The water's clean," Natasha said.

"Should I think of this as a fast? The Albanian detox?"

She nearly smiled. She left him to his weapon making and got out of the house. There were three occupied houses in the area. No one was looking at her as she went towards the road, she was sure. She passed another clearly unoccupied house. She circled back and broke into that one. It had food, flour that didn't smell at all, and a few trinkets Tony might be able to convert into something more. She even found a backpack to load everything to. She remembered to grab a pan or two.

When she slipped back into the first house, she felt a vibration and then Tony came into view with his shotgun leveled at her. "Great to have you home, Nat."

"What was that vibration?"

"I made a little security system. It's dark and I jumped off a train 15 hours ago so I want to sleep." Tony reached down and turned off a device at his feet.

"I found food. You want to eat first?"

"God, yes," Tony said.

She turned the food into something edible and she and Tony ate on the top floor, in a dark corner with a candle their bodies sheltered. "No one can see our light," Tony said.

"It's called being incognito," Natasha said. "No compliments for the chef?"

"This is barely edible, so I'm not complaining, but complimenting is pushing it too far," Tony said. "I do appreciate the food. Maybe next time look for some spices? Basil, salt, pepper, you've heard of them."

"I have," she said. "You're not the best company in the world."

"I am having the time of my life," Tony said. "So now you've hurt my feelings while boring my tongue."

"I usually don't bore your tongue," Natasha said with a sly smile.

"God no," Tony said. "I can't believe I'm not fun to you."

"Your facial hair is pretty ragged," Natasha said.

"That makes me less fun?" Tony stroked his chin. "Should I dance, sing? Some people love my singing."

She shrugged. "I'm just tired," she said. "Entertain me in the morning."

Tony had dragged out more clothes, arranged them like a mattress. He'd put a blanket over his "bed fit for a queen." Then he set up his device at the corner of the bed. "It shouldn't go off when we move, but anything else moving on the floor."

She fell asleep too quickly. She woke twice from the silent alarm, both times it was rats. Tony said, "I'm not eating ratatouille. Set them free to flourish."

"Flourish," Natasha said with a snort. She got back in bed.

In the morning, she tested the knives, checked the balance for throwing and then hid them in her voluminous pants. Tony rigged up a thing like a hand held shocker from the devices Natasha brought back from the other house. "We're armed like Maguyver, let's march into Albania. Further into Albania. March to the sea," Tony said.

"Keep your eyes open, the train might have hit its destination, they might already be searching for us."

"That's an exciting set of conditionals," Tony said. "I can't exactly keep an eye out when I don't even remember who took us."

"They'll stand out," Natasha said. "They were trained killers, they'll carry themselves like that."

"I'll keep an eye out for swagger," Tony said. He held up his hand. "I know that's not what you meant, I'm trying to entertain you. I want to be your best company in the world."

"You really think you can compare to Clint's kids?"

"Fine, that's very stiff competition. I can try to tie them, though," Tony said. "I know, kids are stiff competition. I get it. I'm not cute the same way. I don't look at you that way."

Natasha took the opportunity to scan behind them. She said, "Odd way to put it."

"Kids, they look at us with no assumptions, generally. Clint's kids assume you're the world's greatest aunt, that's a nice way to be looked at," Tony said. "Pepper's pregnant with her new guy."

"You waited for Albania to tell me?" She squeezed his hand and then let go quickly. "How do you feel about that?"

"Well, let me find a couch to lay on," Tony said. "Oh, wait, I'm good. She has a new guy, she wants a child, things are working out great for her. I'm incredibly happy for her, I'm not joking."

"Do you want a child?" Her casual tone was a work of art.

"Oooooh, heavy question. Ask me in a year or two," Tony said. "Let's see where we are then."

"You know I can't," Natasha said.

"I know there's more than one way to become a parent and some of them don't involve your ovaries or my testes, I know we know some of the doctors who can do anything, and I think we table this discussion for a year or two and revisit then if we're still discussing things. Plus, maybe neither of us want kids and that's where the discussion goes," Tony said. "It's in the future when we have more water streaming under the bridge that is us." 

They had been in Italy. It wouldn't be a problem, once they got to Durres, hopefully, to get back to Italy. She and Tony had been with King T'Challa, who had brought his sister. Just like Natasha expected, Tony had been incredibly eager to talk to the genius. He loved geniuses. He loved talking about process and invention. Shuri was the most exciting for him, not only brilliant and not only a genius, but raised in a different education system, so her approach to everything was new to Tony. At some point Natasha and the King had ended up at the other end of the table, ignoring the excited babble.

Natasha was the one who was supposed to be doing most of the talking anyway. She was attempting to explain and reassure the King that the Accords were being fixed, altered to make sure Ross and his cronies had much less power, all the reassuring things Tony would have mentioned eventually from the beginning. Of course, Tony being Tony, he'd never gotten around to it and then everything went boom and he'd had to make it happen with the added pressure from the fallout.

Tony was wallowing in all his guilt. It was funny to Natasha, all the guilt and onus Tony took on for Ultron. She'd never once seen Wanda say a word about what Wanda had done to Bruce. They all had red in their ledger, but Bruce's was more innocent to Natasha than her own or Wanda's. Thinking about Bruce made Natasha's stomach curdle so she pushed aside the whole train of thought.

So she and Tony had concluded a successful meeting with King T'Challa in Turin. Then they were walking the streets, a seeming spontaneous choice, when they were grabbed.

They had been stored in a crate on a train in Albania running through Shijak. With Russian labeled crates. She recalled the look of the train. She would need to check with someone, Maria Hill or Sharon, to determine more. She didn't know enough about Albania to go from the paint on a train and contents of the crates to determine who their captors had been. She would need to know sooner than that, she thought, there was every chance they would be intercepted before they got on a ferry in Durres.

"You know what's in Durres?" Tony smiled. "Copacabana Beach."

"Don't you dare sing right now." They were walking, again. The road wasn't great and the drivers were even worse so they were mostly walking a few feet from the road. They went behind the occasional house or grocery store.

"I bet you'd be a great shoplifter," Tony said. "I bet you are."

"Too much risk," Natasha said. "We can't afford to get caught and we have food."

"We don't have very good food," Tony said. "I don't like living in the rough."

"You don't need the exposure to how the other 99% live? Like a lesson," Natasha said. He would know she meant it fondly, he was surprisingly perceptive.

"I was held hostage in a cave, that's my first and last time roughing it and all I intend to ever do," Tony said. He sounded sanguine. Maybe he even was. He said, "So, ever been in Albania before?"

Natasha thought. "Twice. Once before SHIELD, once after."

"What did the commies have you doing?"

"They weren't commies for most of the time I was working for them, you know. I was a shopgirl in Tirana and devout Muslim until they had enough information on the man I was targeting, and then I killed him."

"You prayed five times a day?"

"With six of my coworkers," Natasha said. "It was." She paused. "Soothing. Peaceful. I'm not a believer, but I enjoyed it. Albania had just started to break out of the communist anti-religion focus."

"Why did SHIELD send you?"

"I was in Berat, tracking a group of mountain climbers who were suspected of being infiltrated by a dangerous white supremacist group. There was only one of them in the group and I took care of him," she said.

"Did you kill him?"

"I delivered him to SHIELD for further interrogation, I don't know what they did to him," she said. "Sometimes they imprisoned those types of informers."

"I came here once with my dad when I was 15, I don't even know how we got into the country. How did he even have connections in Albania? I really don't know why Dad brought me. I was bored out of mind and spent the whole time making tiny robots in the hotel room," Tony said. "I'd totally forgotten about that."

"Isn't 1985 when Hoxha died?" Natasha glanced at him.

"He was very old and very sick, I'm sure that had nothing to do with Dad's visit," Tony said. "Probably."

"Howard Stark wasn't an assassin," Natasha said.

"Still killed a lot of people if you add it all up. He helped with the atomic bomb, you know."

"I've never heard you mention it," she said.

"Ha ha," Tony said.

They rested for lunch by a deserted store. "What did this one sell?"

Natasha read the sign and looked through the grimy windows. "Car parts."

"Are there any left?" Tony was already standing, tapping the rusty door nearest to them.

"I guess you're going to find out," Natasha said.

It had also been a bicycle store. Much of the place had been stripped bare, but Tony could do anything, even with scraps. First he cobbled together two bicycles. Then he started searched around for motors.

"If you make a motorcycle, people will notice," Natasha said.

"Why would they notice? It's a motorcycle, someone put it together, this is a country of people who are used to some assembly required," Tony said from one of the back rooms.

"You have a point," she said.

She spent the afternoon foraging for food and occasionally stealing some while Tony labored in the back room of the store. When she got back, he was still playing with the engine. She said, "Does it work, or it works and you're trying to add stealth technology?"

"It works, I'm trying for more fuel efficiency and noise abatement. I haven't even looked for helmets yet, but you could," he said.

"Or I could eat my food, leave some for you, and try to clean myself up with water from that pump out back. You can find the helmets," she said.

"You're the best," Tony said.

She did enjoy his company. It wasn't just that he made her come, that he was a fundamentally decent person. He had a kind of confidence she'd never known in anyone else, a combination of genius and wealth. Tony went anywhere he wanted, anywhere he could think of. She washed her hair a little, scrubbed her face clean. The clothes were still musty and not well made and hung off her and she hadn't changed her underwear in two days. She used to be better at tolerating that kind of situation, but dating Tony meant more luxury. 

Tony found helmets for both of them. He said, "Maybe we spend the night here."

"Staying in one place is a great way to avoid being found," Natasha said.

"They know we jumped the train by now. They don't know where. If they're searching for us, they might assume we'd be constantly on the move. Instead we're pausing, getting ahead of where they think we might be." Tony said. "I'm exhausted."

"Fine," Natasha said. "Since we have your motion detector."

"I'm turning this into something when we get home," Tony said. "Home security, baby monitor, so many uses."

"Mostly it seems to find rats," Natasha said.

"That's also helpful," Tony said.

She helped him build a kind of lean to in the back of the store, away from either entrance or the windows up front. She locked each door and rigged quick traps if anyone opened them. When she got back to the tiny fort, Tony was already asleep. He was in great shape for 48, but he was still 48. She had to remember to call him old more often, he'd love that.

The motion detector woke them up again, this time it was mice. "I know there's a difference," Tony said. "But at night they're all the same."

"One's better eating," Natasha said  
.  
"I don't want to know," Tony said, pulling her close to him.

They both smelled bad. Tony hadn't even washed his hair. 

They'd been on one vacation. He'd taken her to some obscenely expensive resort, previous occupants of their room included Prince Harry. The staff hadn't boasted, they just made sure it was known. They'd stayed in a suite that floated right on the crystal blue ocean, if they walked out one way they'd be in water, the other way was pristine beach. Natasha had spent the first day telling him how obscene the whole place was. He'd nodded with a shit eating grin. "I've never been here before. It's living up to my expectations, believe me."

She'd finally relaxed on the second day since anyone approaching was easily visible and the bed was the most restful one she'd slept on in her entire life. Tony had said, "I'll buy you one."

"I'll be too rested, I won't be able to work," Natasha had said.

"That's really sad," Tony had said.

They'd had sex out in the open, on the deck. It wasn't public since literally no one could see them. But the sun had felt amazing on her back.

She woke up and she was still in Albania. One of her traps had gone off and she had her knife out before she opened her eyes. "You could have told me," Tony said, glaring at her. "You could have let me know not to open the door before checking with you."

"You really didn't think I would set up security around the doors?"

"No, of course not, this is all my fault. I'll be picking metal shavings out of my beard for the next four years, but that's okay, it's all my fault."

She smiled. "How will you tell the metal apart from the gray?"

He glared at her again and went outside. She stood in the doorway, surveying to see if anyone was around them. The sun had barely risen so visibility wasn't great. She missed Clint.

They both cleaned up again, not that it made much of an impact on their general grime, packed away everything they'd acquired. She put on her helmet and said, "I'm driving."

"That's what I assumed," Tony said.

For a bike built in half a day from a spare parts and a bad frame it drove like a dream. It drove like a dream compared to a few brand new motorcycles Natasha had driven. Tony knew his shit, she thought. It was quiet and she thought it actually probably could turn on a dime. It was helpful to have that maneuverability since the roads were so awful. 

They made it to the outskirts of Durres in a little over an hour. Natasha drove around idly until they finally found an internet cafe.

Natasha had cobbled together a little money to pay for their time. They didn't have long, but it took Tony two minutes to get to a Stark server and another minute to call up Vision. "We need ID, money, clothes, and also a way out of here."

"I will do my best," Vision said.

"Feel free to fly out here yourself," Tony said.

"I believe that would take too long. But I will make sure someone is dispatched from Stark Industries straightaway. We've been worried about you."

Natasha said, "We're getting the stink eye here, we're going to Copacabana Beach, send your messenger there."

Tony did sing the damn song as she drove them. His voice wasn't bad but he hammed everything up. She actually smiled at him, knowing he couldn't see it.

"Baby," Natasha said, her smile wide showing her teeth. She was speaking to a waitress at a cafe. She was trying to scam her way to some food while they waited for their IDs and money, blessed money.

She never called Tony baby. He called her a million names. She wondered if Pepper had liked it or hated it. Natasha was ambivalent. She barely knew her real name. She'd seen her parents' graves, but she had no idea if they'd ever called her by a nickname, if they had said her name and added words like lovey, sweetheart, baby. Tony had a different nickname for her every day. He'd already called her Chef Mouse this morning.

"Girlfriend," she heard behind her, a high pitched squeal. Natasha turned with a genuine smile now. It was Sharon Carter.

They hugged and Sharon slipped a packet into one of Natasha's voluminous pockets. "I didn't know you were coming," Natasha said. "Did you change employers and not tell me?"

Sharon laughed. "No, but everyone's worried about your boyfriend."

"This time they have a reason," Natasha said.

"It still weirds me out when you don't correct me," Sharon said. "You and him is a weird picture."

"I know," Natasha said. "I think he's currently standing outside the most expensive hotel he could find waiting for me."

"He's great at lying low," Sharon said, very nearly rolling her eyes.

"No, he's not. Did anyone give you a watch? Or glasses?"

"Oh, yeah," Sharon said, back into spy mode, her smile a little fake now. "I think your guy left this in his last hotel room." Sharon handed over an ordinary looking Stark phone and a ludicrously expensive watch.

"You are the best," Natasha said. She hugged Sharon again to underline her sincerity. "Are you hanging around?"

"Believe it or not, yes," Sharon said. "If Tony is going to the nearest nice hotel, he's either in Tirana or heading towards the beach."

"He's actually over there," Natasha said. Sharon turned around and waved. Tony waved back.

"I have a car, I'll take us there."

It was much faster riding in the back of Sharon's car than their longer trip down the highway. Sharon pulled up in front of the Plaza Tirana. "I assume this is what you want, Tony."

"You are very right," Tony said. "I'm getting a full suite, do you need a room, Peggy's niece?"

"Sure," Sharon said, not smiling.

Even in his old, too large, battered clothes, having not shaved in days look, Tony still walked up to the concierge desk with his usual confidence. He put his passport on the desk and said a few words. 15 minutes later, Tony and Natasha were in the most expensive suite. There was a woman from the hotel staff delicately taking down Natasha's sizes for clothing. Tony was saying, "Here's the number for my assistant, she has everything you need." Natasha tuned out Tony's marching orders and went into the bathroom.

By the time she came out a half hour later, wrapped in her towel, Tony was sitting in a chair in the middle of the suite, a barber putting hot towels on his face.

"You can't go even ten minutes with making sure the goatee is on point, can you?"

Tony said, "It's because I care about you, I know how important it is to you."

"I actually prefer a simple beard."

"Did you hear that, my friend with the sharp razor? Simple beard, nicely trimmed," Tony said.

Natasha sat in the bedroom in her fluffy robe, waiting for real clothes to arrive. She tapped Tony's simple looking phone until it expanded into one of his top of the line customized for the man himself Stark tablets. She caught up on the news and started searches from what she knew of their attackers. She popped up the video interface and called Sharon.

Sharon said, "Have you found out anything?"

"I only needed to ask and Tony would ditch the goatee," Natasha said. "I can't find anything linking the crates and train we were on to any known bad actors."

"I can't either," Sharon said. "They had to be following you, but you would have noticed anyone following you, right?"

"Of course," Natasha said. "Do you think I've gone soft?"

"No, but maybe you do," Sharon said.

"I didn't notice anyone following us," Natasha said. "There were 15 of them, there's no way they were all that good."

"Human experimentation," Sharon said, grimly.

"That's a horrible thought," Natasha said. "But probable."

The hotel staffer buzzed into the bedroom with multiple bags of clothes. She started taking everything out, and Natasha held up her hands. She said in her broken attempt to speak like a native, "I really want clean clothes on me now, thank you so much." The woman blushed and nodded and rushed out.

She was thrilled to see there was even make up in the bags. She'd missed mascara more than she would ever tell anyone besides Sharon.

Natasha went out to the suite to see if Tony was done. He was, and was liberally tipping the barber. "I have something to wear when I get out of the shower, right?"

"You have a lot to wear," Natasha said. "You look good for an older man."

"You look beautiful," Tony said. "There's a full spa in this place and three restaurants, pick which of those you want to visit next while I scour the layers of dirt on my skin and put on real clothes."

"Don't forget your watch," Natasha said.

"It's not a full suit," Tony said. "That's coming tomorrow. You know I have it miniaturized down to a bread box now. If you have any idea how big a bread box is."

"Do you?"

Natasha retrieved the tablet from the bed while Tony showered. She started poking through the reliable intelligence about any human experimentation in Albania. She found one intelligence report, the same one she'd read before they'd been kidnapped. She picked a restaurant for herself and Tony. She called Sharon and told her to come over. Once Sharon was there, Natasha went into the bathroom and said, "Sharon is here. Don't come out of the bedroom naked and demanding sex."

"I don't demand sex," Tony said. "Thanks for the warning."

They ate at Panevivo, the Italian restaurant. Natasha said to Sharon, "So do you see anyone following us? At this point everyone in the world knows where we are."

"We didn't publicize the trip to Turin," Tony said. "Maybe that's why they grabbed us there."

"They obviously didn't want you dead," Sharon said.

Tony nodded and ate more of his dinner. "They won't get much for any nude pictures of me," he said. "That ship has sailed."

"Not since you had the chest piece out," Natasha said.

"I don't think my tiny scars are that exciting," Tony said.

"You're not buying pictures for TMZ," Natasha said.

"You naked is way more valuable," Tony said.

"I don't think that was their objective either," Sharon said.

"Plus, if they could get that close to us without being noticed, why not just do a full sex-tape and pictures from the hotel that night?" Tony drummed his fingers on the table. "Really, if you can get 15 people that close to us, especially you, why not just kill us? That's the best money around."

"So many people want your 48 year old ass dead," Natasha said.

"You love talking about my age lately," Tony said.

"48 is impressive," Sharon said.

"Frankly, it is. We all know I should been dead at least three times over. When I hit 50, we're going to blow the roof of the joint. And now that you've both made sure we all remember that I am nearly half as old as Steve Rogers, let's go back to human experimentation," Tony said.

There still wasn't much information. Sharon had contacted a few scientists and doctors and had a list of things the facility would need. 

Natasha said, "Once you've found a way to get 15 killers to appear out of nowhere, why test it with a naked kidnapping?"

"They were taking us somewhere to experiment on us?"

"The nudity was probably to inhibit your escape," Sharon said. 

"Sure," Tony said. "There are other ways to do that. Actually shackling us in addition to the nudity."

"We were in a crate," Natasha said. "Maybe they thought we wouldn't wake up in time."

"Something delayed the train?"

Sharon nodded. "We have a few avenues to explore. Tomorrow. Do we think you'll be safe tonight?"

"We're very visibly here," Natasha said. 

"I think you're safe," Sharon said. "You'll be safer tomorrow, Wanda and Vision are on the way."

"Goody," Tony said. 

Tony hung up his clothes and hers, rearranged the toiletries in the bathroom. She watched him from the bed. He said, "I booked us both massages tomorrow morning. We deserve it, don't you think?"

"Sure," she said. "What are you stressed about?"

"People who appear out of nowhere coming to kidnap us again, obviously," Tony said. "I don't want to die just yet."

"Just yet," Natasha repeated. Whomever Tony'd sent to get them clothes and other things had gotten her a hair mask for overnight. She was working it into her hair from scalp to ends. It was very soothing. 

Tony set up his motion detector again. She said, "It's like a night light for you."

"I can turn it off if you prefer," he said, getting in bed. 

"Don't you dare," she said.

Tony had an apartment that overlooked the Thames in London. Natasha assumed it was incredibly expensive because everything around Tony was. She loved the view, though. The corner of the living room was all glass and she could sit there and look up or look down and see nearly everything around them.

Tony was in the converted lab slash work space he ended up installing in every one of his homes. Since they'd left Albania, he'd been working on his motion detector. He wanted something that was nearly 360, but not so complete that the detector would go off if someone tossed and turned while they slept. Tony always slept badly.

She was still disturbed by Albania. She didn't understand how she could have missed 15 people following them, she didn't understand how she could have missed 1. Experimenting on humans was hardly new. There was Steve Rogers, there was all the girls in the Red Room before and after her. Pietro, Wanda. But maybe Natasha was just getting soft.

Tony called her into his lab. "We've got a call." She sat down next to him on the bench and looked at the screen.

Vision and Wanda were on the other end. Vision said, "We have discovered footage of what occurred in Turin."

"From a drone," Wanda said.

Tony said, "There was a drone following us?"

No, there was not, Natasha thought. Vision said, "No, the drone was used by a private security force to protect an illegal gambling establishment --"

"At the end of the street we were on," Natasha said. "On the left side."

"Yes," Vision said, with a very slight smile. "The drone was initially thought destroyed but we were able to rebuild it."

Magic, Natasha thought.

Wanda said, "Here you go." On the screen, it was very grainy footage. But one man literally appeared out of nowhere making a circle with his hand that traced in the air gold fireworks. Magic, Natasha thought. Tony fell to the ground immediately, Natasha dropped into fighting stance. It was ridiculous and embarrassing. When they were both passed out, the man gestured and their clothes disintegrated away.

"I really loved that shirt," Tony said.

The man made another circle of fireworks and then floated Tony and Natasha through it.

"So, actual magic," Tony said. "Why not kill us again?"

"It's not normal for people with command of these arts to act like this," Vision said. "They are rarely independent operators. We believe this man is trying to set up his nefarious business. A demonstration of what he can do."

"Which is why he chose us, because most of the other Avengers aren't so easy to subdue," Natasha said.

"I believe you are both difficult to subdue," Vision said.

"We don't need the reassurance," Tony said. It felt like a kindness that he covered her need. She was sure he knew she was smarting about the incident.

"That's why no one came after you," Wanda said. "You're safe, I think."

Tony said, "Great, what are we doing to track down this guy? Facial recognition, alerting the Wizarding authorities?"

"We are doing both those things," Wanda said.

"Yes, I've contacted Dr. Strange to see if he recognizes the man. And if he can propose some sort of protection for all of us," Vision said.

"Let us know what comes up," Natasha said and turned off the call.

She went back to the living room, Tony following her. He said, "You're thinking about retiring because one Harry Potter fooled the great Black Widow?"

She didn't ask how he managed to read her mind. He knew her and it was frightening how well he knew her. She never meant to let him know her. Anyone could know Tony, spend any time with him and he was a mostly open book.

She pushed the hair out of her face. "It's very frustrating, Tony."

"Sweetheart," he said. "I know how you feel."

She believed him. This was her portal opening to alien worlds and demigods. The portal had thrown Tony because he had always defined the world in concrete mechanical engineering and physics. He knew the rules until there weren't rules. Natasha lived at a smaller level, the portal was just another thing way above her pay grade. But this was exactly her pay grade: kidnap, take in silence and shadows, probably kill.

She leaned back in the chair in the corner. She said, "Maybe I'll be Laura and have babies."

"You can't be Laura, there's someone already being Laura, she's cornered that market. If you're going to live on a farm and have babies, that would be Natasha doing that. Though, at that point, I think you go by a nickname; Nat, Natty. Natty making pies and goulash --"

"That sounds disgusting. Don't ever call me Natty," she said. She did take out her own phone and emailed Dr. Cho.

Tony didn't come with her to her first examination with Helen. She felt like it was none of his business. She knew he'd be very skeptical of that excuse.

"Those people were evil," Helen said. She was looking at the results of the exam. Helen could do it without being invasive, though Natasha wouldn't have minded. Sometimes she found it easy to be numb about things put inside her.

"I thought it was just a hysterectomy," Natasha said.

"No, it's a vicious twist on a hysterectomy." Cho was frowning and shaking her head.

"I don't need details," Natasha said. "I guess you can't reverse it then, or grow me something new."

"I can do both those things," Cho said, smiling.

Natasha thought of all the girls before her and the ones who came after and how none of them were in a position to just email the world's foremost expert and ask a favor. Not millions of women who wanted children and couldn't conceive. Natasha was wildly lucky to have this chance to say, "Do it," to selfishly decide she did deserve to be a mother. She didn't even know if she wanted to be a mother. It was much easier to picture Tony with a chubby baby grabbing at his beard and his happiness at the child. Where was she in that picture? She had a niece and two nephews who adored her, who was she to grab at life with both hands? She was far from deserving, she was a killer and the time she'd spent killing was much longer than the time she'd spent working for HYDRA SHIELD or the Avengers. She knew balances of assets and liabilities where assets were lives saved and liabilities were people killed was an imperfect metaphor. It was a shitty way to think. She would never be free. It was never a one for one trade.

She wanted it for the wrong reasons. She wanted to pretend she was someone who hadn't been trained from a young age to dispatch enemies with multiple methods. She wanted to be someone more like Tony or Laura. She would never be either.

She still wasn't doing it for Tony. If she had babies, it would certainly be with him, assuming his sperm was viable after all the exposure to chemicals and portals and all the drugs he'd taken before he turned 21. But she didn't want to give Tony babies. She wanted, maybe, to have the decision to have children, and she knew if she did decide, it would be most likely be with Tony.

Helen Cho said, "I'd be thrilled if you wanted to. This would be a great test of the technology so we can make it less expensive and available to more people."

"You're trying to convince me by appealing to my sense of heroism," Natasha said, smiling.

"You'd be a great pioneer," Cho said.

Natasha agreed.

A month later she was recuperating from two procedures that Helen didn't call surgeries. "It's more complex than that," Helen said.

Natasha had told Tony, so he was sitting in the chair next to her, fiddling on his tablet, like always. He was doing it one-handed because he was holding her hand, his arm stretched at an awkward position so he could do that. He really had pretty fit arms. Not Clint fit, but no one really had that. She blinked a few times and tried to focus.

Tony put down his tablet and moved his chair closer. He squeezed her hand and his fingers felt like they were completely tiny cuts and calluses. That had to be a side effect of the post-procedure drugs. He smiled at her and said, "Waking up a little?"

"Where are the kids?" Natasha's voice sounded slurry and slushy.

"Well, no kids from you for at least six months, you're on hormonal birth control to get the machinery up and running again. That's weird to think about, we've never had period sex. I'm up for it, of course." She glared. "Oh," he said. "You mean the Barton kids. The whole family is coming in tomorrow. I paid for their flights, by the way. Despite the many churlish things Clint has said about me." He leaned over her in the bed a little. "But it's tomorrow, you know how the kind of security they use, it's never easy."

She nodded.

He said, "Can we agree now that this is kind of an overreaction? One rogue Harry Houdini, already caught and locked up by Dr. M.D.," - This was how Tony referred to Dr. Strange. M.D. stood for Magician Dude. Natasha had actually laughed the first time he'd said it so now he wouldn't stop - "We're all safe, wacky magicky protections in place. You don't need to retire and become a barefoot and pregnant baker, or whatever you're planning to do."

"It's not why," Natasha said.

Tony stared at her for a few moments. She said, "Too complex to explain now."

"Fine," Tony said. He kissed the back of her hand and she felt his dry lips and his beard. She was clearly mentally altered because she also felt a blooming in her, a glow from his affection.

She was more alert for Laura and the kids. Clint sat in Tony's chair and watched fondly. Then Natasha had a room decorated in drawings and a warm new quilt for her bed. Clint stayed for a little bit after Laura started rounding up the kids.

"So what? Stark won't come in the room because I'm here?"

Natasha said, "Yeah, that's why he was in here for a half an hour an hour ago. Are you making up things to be churlish about?"

Clint grinned. "Churlish? That has to be his word."

"I think he just likes saying it," Natasha said. "Are you trying to say you don't approve? Little late in the game for that."

"I would never tell you I don't approve," Clint said. "You'd probably elope on a magical island you have to have 100 billion dollars to be able to land on."

"I wouldn't," Natasha said. "But I've been to that island, they have real mermaids who serve you coconut drinks."

"My approval doesn't matter," Clint said.

"That's very true, forget I asked," Natasha said.

"But I do," Clint said. "You don't seem miserable, he spends a lot of money on you, you got him to get rid of that stupid goatee thing, that all seems good."

"That does sum up the relationship," Natasha said.

"Are you really going to have babies with him?" Clint was attempting to look bored and failing.

"I'm really going to be able to choose if I want to have children with him," Natasha said. "I thought after HYDRA went down, I'd have a chance to find out who I really am."

"You are really a dork," Clint said. "I could have told you that."

"I found my parents' graves, I visited the remains of the Red Room and kicked a few stones. But I still thought of myself, I thought I was just a killer. A monster working on the good side. I'm not a monster because of what they did to me. My body doesn't make me a monster. I'm a killer. A killer they made. But I've been trying to strip away everything the Red Room did to me and this was one more step. Now I have choices, because this one thing they did to me has been reversed. I still have some to go. But I think 3 decades is enough for them," she said.

"What kind of drugs are you on? You're talking like Oprah," Clint said. He took her hand, though, smiling at her, pushing her hair out of her face with his other hand. She thought that was approval.

A week later she was out of Cho's compound, heading home in one of Tony's sleek and silent cars. Home was currently a luxurious private ski chalet near Banff. They'd flown to Banff on one of the Stark jets, then Tony had taken the wheel. When they were 20 minutes out, Tony said, "You don't have to retire to say fuck you to the Red Room assholes."

"I still haven't said I'm retiring," Natasha said. "I'm going part-time. Like you."

"I am just supporting you in this? I'm okay with that, I just want to know if your planned income source is possibly illegal. You know, just in case."

Natasha said, "You were already paying my salary, or your foundation, whatever. You've basically been supporting me for the last year. Thank you, by the way."

"It's not like you don't have your own secret sources. But I'll call my guy, we'll get you your own trust so you don't end up asking me for an allowance in the future," Tony said.

"My very own trust? Tony, you shouldn't," Natasha said.

"I have an extra few shares of Berkshire Hathaway I can give you, some Stark stocks as long as you vote in block with Pepper on everything," Tony said. "Some startup cash."

"What am I starting up?"

"Your new comfortable life, I guess," Tony said. "Maybe the world owes you. You closed the portal, you brought down SHIELD, you stopped Ultron from becoming Vision. You're a class A great aunt to those Barton kids. And, at the bottom of the list, your ass is a thing of beauty only surpassed by your tits."

"Tits and ass," Natasha sang. "You know the song?"

"I don't, at all," Tony said.

"Chorus Line, the musical, the incredibly popular iconic musical," Natasha said. "I was undercover as a dancer on the revival in 2007."

"Strangely enough, I've never been a big musical fan. I've seen Hamilton and I don't know, something else," Tony said.

"That only leaves about 1000 other musicals you might have seen," she said. "I have a bootleg of the show, we can watch it tonight."

"Are you in a unitard the whole time?"

"A leotard, and leg warmers," Natasha said.

Natasha found getting her period disconcerting. She'd spent most of her life divorced from that cycle, not even remembering to pretend to use pads or tampons when she was undercover. She'd almost gotten caught once because of that. Her breasts felt weird, she ruined a pair underwear she really liked and she felt unsettled. She talked to Laura about it and Laura nodded and said comforting things. Laura would also say that menstruating isn't the defining characteristic of a woman.

"I know, you don't have to reassure me," Natasha would say. But it was comforting. Natasha did want the reassurance. Because these aches and pains weren't about becoming a woman, they were about reversing a medical procedure she'd been forced to undergo. The only thing she was becoming was someone who didn't have to be an assassin or a spy to fulfill her purpose.

Tony was insistent period sex was perfectly cool, but it was mostly, to Natasha, messy.

They spent three months in Banff, two months in New York City, two months in Los Angeles and then Tony decided he had to work on this one particular project and the best source was a small country in Africa, near Wakanda, but not on the border of it. The country to the north was in the midst of a civil war, sort of. It was a very complex issue. Tony would listen to the news in the morning and then pace in frustration. 

"You can't solve these kinds of conflict with a better suit, Tony," Natasha said. "Trust me, as someone who's tried more than once to topple a regime, it doesn't really work. Maybe sometimes, but not here."

"I know," Tony said. "I know." Tony spent an hour a day on the phone with Shuri. He thought she was brilliant and when Natasha walked in once, Tony had this beaming smile on his face as he nodded and nodded.

If she were a different person, she might have been jealous. But any jealousy would have been completely baseless. Shuri wasn't the least bit interested in Tony that way.

Natasha had been doing some training as people called her. She had her own ballet instructor in New York City, she'd skyped with the ancient woman in Banff and Los Angeles. She couldn't let go of some of her Red Room skills, she wanted to be able to kill people with her pinky long into her 70s, 80s. Assuming she lived that long.

"I know the only thing I can do," Tony said, over dinner. "Finish this project, build the factory here, let the workers form a union and run the thing. That's what I can do."

"That's a lot," Natasha said.

"It's not as good as sneaking down to the refugee camp on the border and murdering anyone who threatens the people in the camp," Tony said.

"Is murder the right word? Sounds like someone's trying to keep those people safe," Natasha said, smiling.

"That's very attractive, I have to say," Tony said.

He took her to bed that night, one more place they lived with insanely undeserved soft beds. He always let her pick how they had sex or fucked. One time in a conversation with Laura, she'd said, "making love," but it was clearly meant to be ironic.

She tied his hands to the bed posts and balanced on top of his face until he made her come, then she grabbed his hair to stay standing. He was very hard. She licked his dick and then started to position herself over him. He said, "Hey, condom, right?"

"I'm on the pill," she said. She gripped the base of his dick to guide him into her. He was in deep enough she could just sit on his hip and rock her hips, holding him in tight.

"But," he said, his legs coming up to brace her like he thought about stopping her. "Two methods are best," he said. She loved his voice when they were having sex.

"Whatever," she said. She smiled at him and kept rocking until he came. She untied him.

After they were cleaned up, Tony grabbed her and rolled her next to him, close to him. He said, "Whatever?"

"Whatever," she said. "You wouldn't be upset if I was pregnant, would you?"

"No," Tony said. "But honestly, can we talk about this a little more than whatever?"

"Sure," Natasha said. "I might want a kid. But not enough to actively plan. Maybe an accident."

"If you're open to an accident, it's not an accident," Tony said. "You're kind of planning. Which we should do. I can't believe I'm the one asking for more relationship discussions."

"One discussion. We've never even decided to be exclusive with each other," she said.

"But we are," Tony said. "Right?"

"Absolutely," she said. "Who do you think I'm sleeping with?"

"Just me," Tony said. "Right?"

"Yes," she said. "Duh."

"Did you just bring that up to distract me?"

"Probably," Natasha said. "I'm not sure myself, how much I want it."

"Neither of us are gonna run out of genetic material anytime soon," Tony said. "In lieu of waiting for an accident, I would prefer we plan. Not now is my vote. Not for another two months, I say."

"What is in two months? It's not an anniversary, right?"

"No, but in two months, you wouldn't have to be pregnant in the summer. Pepper says being pregnant in the summer is the worst," Tony said.

"We could just go somewhere cold," Natasha said.

"We always end up in New York City or Los Angeles, we can't really just stay in Siberia," Tony said.

"We should never stay in Siberia," Natasha said.

"A bad example," Tony said.

"Fine," Natasha said. "In two months, we try to make a baby."

"Agreed," Tony said. "Are you sure?"

"I've had months and months to think about this, you know."

"So you're sure you want to," Tony said.

"Are you sure?"

Tony kissed her. "I'm very sure if I'm going to have a kid, I want it to be with you. But for you, being a parent is a big radical thing. You don't have to. If we never have a kid, I'll be happy, too."

"It's adorable that you think you can pressure me to do something I don't want to," Natasha said.

"I don't actually think that," Tony said. "Society, though, society exerts a lot of pressure."

"That's why I started smoking," Natasha said.

Tony kissed her nose. She tried to find it irritating. He said, "In conclusion."

"In conclusion?"

"I'm sleepy," Tony said. "I love you."

She snuggled closer and found herself picturing a baby, a baby of hers.


End file.
